Last Man Standing

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

A short while later, Matt Drake found himself seated in the quiet corner of a large, old-fashioned pub in the center of York.

The place held memories for him. Nostalgia seeped through the walls. He had taken Alyson here. Even met Ben Blake here. Pain, sorrow and the memory of old mistakes hung like the shadows of ancient ghosts inside, but there was a certain happiness too. The pub held infinitely more good memories than bad.

On this day he sat with more friends. Mai, Alicia and Dahl. Michael Crouch. Karin and Komodo. Mai was upbeat but still reserved, the shadow that had followed her back from Tokyo well and truly returned. Alicia currently existed in a state of extremes — one moment buoyed by excitement and cracking one-liners and looking dangerous, the next hanging her head glumly as she thought no doubt of Lomas and the bikers, and where the path to her home might now lie.

Crouch imparted more news than he was probably allowed to. Karin and Komodo reported all they knew and told them of SaBo’s fate. The hacker had fled at the first sign of trouble and hadn’t resurfaced. Drake didn’t worry. In this game they came across the same people again and again, and when they next met SaBo — they owed him a little personal hacking time of his own.

Hayden, Kinimaka and Smyth had reported in. The Pentagon appeared to be their new home. Drake rolled his eyes. Could they be under closer scrutiny? Especially now that Kinimaka and Lauren Fox were in the early phases of launching an entirely new operation against General Stone.

He had a feeling they were standing at a crossroads. The way back was littered with mixed memories and defining moments. The roads either side led to nowhere; a stagnant invariable path to dissolution. It was the way ahead that offered a vista of possibility. Only in moving forward and facing new challenges could Matt Drake hope to survive.

And on the road ahead something big was looming. Something immeasurable, on the grandest scale yet.

He wanted to be there for that party.

“Not thinking of retiring now are you?” Crouch asked, noticing the depth of his concentration.

“Furthest thing from my mind,” Drake said. “Coyote is dead. That lifts a weight from my shoulders, yes, but I actually pitied her at the end. I wanted Shelly back. If anything, I miss that girl.”

Crouch smiled pensively. “Me too.”

“Other things are coming,” Drake said. “It will never end.” Mai had spoken a similar sentence to him a long time ago, back when Kennedy was still alive.

“I know. That’s one of the things I wanted to talk about.”

Drake sensed something coming. “Of course, Michael.”

“The Ninth Division is no more. Defunct. Of course, a new department will stand in but I have no interest in that. All my life I’ve wanted to pursue a dream, an ambition. It appears that now I’m in a position to do exactly that.”

Drake smiled. “Sounds good. What kind of dream?”

Now Crouch looked slightly embarrassed, the first time that Drake had ever seen him so. “It’s okay,” the Yorkshireman said quickly. “You don’t have to—”

“No, no,” Crouch said quickly. “I want to. I have to, actually. You see all my life I’ve had this, largely secret, love for archaeological mysteries and ancient unsolved riddles. I guess you could call them cold cases, but ice-cold really. Frozen over. I’m not talking about old gods or Alexander the Great or the plagues of Egypt. I’m talking Aztecs, Incas, Mayans — the civilizations that came and went and left a million stories behind. Even the pirates, the stories they traded and told were pure gold dust.” Crouch was speaking faster and faster, warming to his subject. “Real, living treasures that you can touch and discover. I want to form a team dedicated to searching for these treasures… and I have a backer.”

“You do? That’s fantastic.”

“He provides the money. We get paid a wage. A good one. I have so many government contacts both here and around the world I need a book the size of the Bible just to keep track of them. Wheels can be greased, favors met.”

Drake grimaced a little.

“It’s what makes the world go around, Matt. Politics. Business. Commerce. Banking. The favors, the special invites, the small concessions. Negotiation is as much a currency as banknotes. In any case, I can get us access to a country and its more interesting parts through my contacts. Our benefactor has the money. Now all I need is a team.”

Drake blinked rapidly. “Oh. Are you trying to ask me?” he blurted. “Sorry, I didn’t realize. Us Yorkshire folk need it laid out in plain English. We’re not that good on the uptake.”

“Actually no.” Crouch grinned. “I was asking her.”

He turned toward Alicia, who’d been listening in on their conversation. An expression of surprise was soon covered by a victorious leer.

“In yer face, Drakey!”

Crouch winced a little. “Her qualities are unmistakable.”

Drake nodded seriously. “Alicia is the best teammate and companion anyone could ever hope for.”

Crouch nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

Alicia stared down at the table. Her lips moved but nothing came out, as if the emotion had choked her words. Seconds passed. When finally she met Drake’s gaze the slight sheen in her eyes spoke for her.

Crouch leaned forward. “Will you join me, Alicia?”

“I will,” the Englishwoman said. “I will. But not indefinitely. My options are always open, Michael, so that if the something I’ve been looking for presents itself then I’m free to take it. I’ll also have to talk to the bikers. And SPEAR.”

Drake recognized the craving in those words, the desire that Alicia never let go. A free spirit, she would always follow the road, searching, seeking for that one thing she might never find.

A family.

“And of course you can call on her. And us. Anytime,” Crouch told Drake, and now the rest of the table who had all tuned in.

Alicia said, “You guys have been awesome. The best soldiers, the best friends. The best of everything. Even you, Mai,” she added with a laugh. “But I have to keep searching. Once a rebel always a rebel. Away with the clouds. Riding into the sunset. That’s me. Look for me at the break of dawn, the dying of the day. That will be me — saluting you.”

And she stood up, trying to hide the emotion she felt, no doubt trying to find that one last memorable quip.

“I’ll say my proper goodbyes to SPEAR. Oh, and if I could maybe interrogate Beauregard? Three or four minutes of hard work and I should get what I need.”